


R&R(&R): Rest and Relaxation (and Raunchy Sex)

by alkjira, diemarysues



Series: Three [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Smut, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/diemarysues/pseuds/diemarysues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo and Dwalin have a plan. It involves: hiding the towels, and Thorin in a shower.</p><p>Can't go wrong there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	R&R(&R): Rest and Relaxation (and Raunchy Sex)

**Author's Note:**

> Will we ever stop? Probably not. But it's not our fault that all three are so pretty.
> 
> (/cries I don't know what's wrong with the spacing this always happens) [tried to even it out bb]
> 
> Doc title: 5-star hotels should offer complimentary lube
> 
> Sequel to (amongst others) Do Not Disturb: Threesome In Progress

The plan was beautiful in its simplicity: wait until Thorin was in the shower, then steal all of his clothes, put them in the safe (really, Thorin could just blame himself for having hotel rooms with _safes_ in them), and then conveniently forget the combination.  
  
Dwalin had stuffed his clothes in there as well, and the ones Bilbo had been wearing had been bundled along just because. They’d not bothered with the ones in Bilbo’s suitcase as Bilbo’s clothes wouldn’t fit Thorin anyway.  
  
So, when Thorin’s raised voice from the bathroom informed them that he couldn’t find any towels (they’d been crammed in the free space of Dwalin’s suitcase), neither Bilbo nor Dwalin answered.  
  
The two of them were dressed in the soft, plush robes that had come with the room. Bilbo was lounging on the bed, lazy little bugger that he was, and Dwalin was leaning against the wall, waiting for Thorin to come storming out of the bathroom. Which he did.

Even wet and dripping Thorin certainly was a sight. Eh, _especially_ wet and dripping.  
  
Despite the fine picture his cousin made – all muscle and pale skin and fucking _glistening_ from the shower –, Thorin was obviously not entirely comfortable about being naked around them. He held himself just a tad too stiffly, and when he caught Bilbo’s appreciative glance his hands did a half-aborted motion that suggested that his instinct had been to cover himself.  
  
Now that was a load of bullshit.  
  
“Why are all the towels missing?” Thorin asked, eyebrows knitted together with annoyance.

“They’re not.” Dwalin smirked and held out a face towel which, when held in Dwalin’s large hand, looked marginally bigger than a tissue. When Thorin didn’t take it Dwalin raised his eyebrows in mock-surprise. “I thought you wanted a towel."

“That’s not going to cover _anything_ ,” Thorin retorted flatly.

“If you slip underneath the sheets you’ll be completely covered - and warm.” Bilbo’s offer was accompanied by an angelic expression. “Personally, I think it’s plenty warm in here. Maybe even a bit hot.”  
  
The blond then proceeded to undo the belt on his robe and squirmed until he’d gotten his arms out of the sleeves. He then pushed it off his shoulders, letting it fall open as it would. “Much better,” he said contently as he relaxed back onto the covers (and robe, which was good or Thorin might’ve tried to snag it), now completely bare.

"I need -" Thorin began, eyes fixed on Bilbo. “I need –”

Dwalin used his distraction to shrug out of his own robe, toeing it beneath the chest of drawers just in case Thorin had ideas.

"What you need is to get on the bloody bed," he interrupted before Thorin could start blathering on about whatever work related thing that he thought he needed to do but actually didn’t. "One weekend to relax won't kill you."

"One weekend with you two might." Before either of them could protest or take offense, Thorin looked away, flushing. "Not enough blood to my brain and all that."

"Your cock's not that big," Dwalin snorted. "It’s lovely, don’t get me wrong, but you’re not going to pass out if you become hard. Now get."

Bilbo lifted one corner of the sheet invitingly – the corner he wasn’t sitting on, that is –, then after a moment’s contemplation simply pulled it and the covers away entirely and rolled onto the centre of the bed to offer himself invitingly.  
  
"Are you sure I can't -"

"No," Dwalin stated as he began to nudge Thorin towards the bed.

"But -"

"Thorin, so help me, if you argue one more time I’m going to shove you out of this room. Without the towel."

Thorin raised an eyebrow and then looked down at himself. "I believe I was not allowed a towel to start with so as threats go…"

Dwalin waved the face towel he was still holding. "D'ya want this now then so I can take it away from you?"

“What exactly would be the point of –”

Both their gazes snapped towards the bed at Bilbo's soft moan. 

"Don't mind me," the blond said as he pushed the sheets further down with his feet, one hand busy at his chest. In his other hand, his cock was beginning to harden between his legs. “I'm just keeping myself, _oh_ , entertained.”

The was a soft thud  as Bilbo’s robe fell to the ground and Dwalin grinned as Thorin made no move to snatch it up. He still wasn’t getting on the bed though. Time for drastic threats.

"We'll be sure to be extra loud, so you can hear us while you’re standing naked in the hallway," Dwalin said pointedly. “Or you could -”

"They'll be able to hear us through the door?" Bilbo asked, and he looked as scandalized as one could be while wanking in front of two lovers. It was kind of amusing to see wide hazel eyes as a stark counterpoint to a steadily stroked cock.  
  
"Not unless you scream at the top of your lungs," Thorin said dryly. In contrast to that trickles of water had started trailing down from his wet hair, drawing Dwalin’s attention back to Thorin’s shoulders and chest. “At any rate, my employees aren't going to eavesdrop on guests.”  
  
"And how about you?" Dwalin asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you going to be eavesdropping, or are you getting. On. The. Damned. Bed?"

Thorin crossed his arms over his bare chest – which, as an aside, offered no modesty. It did however do a very nice job of emphasising Thorin’s arms. His expression was challenging. "Make me."

Thankfully the bed was as oversized as the last time they'd been in one of Thorin's hotels; Dwalin unceremoniously tackled Thorin onto it, and Bilbo didn’t even have to move to avoid being crushed.

Dwalin took advantage of the fact that Thorin’s will to struggle was half-hearted at best and quickly had his cousin pinned to the bed. Thorin’s hands were held on either side of his head, fingers curled into the sheets. It wasn’t a convenient position to observe Thorin’s cock, but Dwalin’s own was mostly hard and pressing into a strong abdomen.  
  
“So what am I going to do with you now?” he murmured, watching as the black of Thorin’s eyes expanded between one heartbeat and the next. Not for the first time, Dwalin figured that his cousin had stolen most of the prettiness from their generation of family. Thin pink lips and a blade-sharp nose, big eyes and big, er, _something else_ –

Bilbo answered the question. “I think he would enjoy a hickey on his inner thigh.” He sounded innocent. Dangerous. It was clear that Dwalin’s cock had no self-preservation because it twitched with sudden interest. “I know _I’d_ enjoy seeing that.”  
  
“You’re welcome to give him one,” Dwalin offered, tightening his grip on Thorin’s wrists slightly, not that he made any move to get away. Thorin wasn’t hard yet, but the knee Dwalin had shoved between his thighs was nudging against something that was unquestionably beginning to stiffen. Mmm.  
  
“I think I’d like to watch actually.” Bilbo wriggled up the bed until he could rest his back against the overly large pillows that went with the overly large bed. “The two of you are very much worth watching.”  
  
It was good that Dwalin didn’t blush easily, because the naked hunger in Bilbo’s voice was enough to make anyone bright red. Well, if their short lover wanted a show, he could certainly oblige.

Dwalin started at Thorin’s mouth, not so much kissing as licking into it, then pulling back to bite at his lips. This earned him a throaty groan, and when Thorin’s Adam’s apple bobbed heavily he chased it as well.

“Move your hands and regret it,” he warned, squeezing Thorin’s wrists before letting them go. Dwalin made sure to pause and wait for a moment, just to ensure that his order would be listened to. Thorin merely stared back at him, eyes half-lidded, and pushed his hips upwards – pushing his cock more firmly against Dwalin’s knee.

To be fair, he’d only told Thorin not to move his _hands_.

Letting it slide, Dwalin moved backwards – down the bed – stopping to taste patches of clean skin as he went. Each time he did, Thorin’s breath hitched, and so did Bilbo’s; upon realising this Dwalin went even slower. The drag of his tongue was probably maddening by now, and the first time he slurped it was a fortuitous accident. Bilbo had actually moaned loudly at that, and so Dwalin decided to let go of all vestiges of decency. (It wasn’t a very big sacrifice anyway.)

By the time he reached Thorin’s thigh, there was a lovely stiff cock standing to attention mere inches away. Bilbo’s own prick was as pretty as usual, the head disappearing and reappearing from view as Bilbo palmed it leisurely.

Dwalin fit his thumb behind Thorin’s knee, pushing upwards so it was bent almost to Thorin’s shoulder. He breathed wetly over the skin he was about to mark; Thorin’s hips jerked accordingly. Dwalin looked up, meeting Bilbo’s eyes, and licked a broad stripe without breaking their gazes.

He noted that Bilbo had to swallow convulsively before he could speak. “Do it.” His other hand was on his chest, tracing invisible paths over his smooth skin. “Mark him.”

Helpless against that breathless command, Dwalin wasted no time. He wasn’t teasing now. His teeth sunk into flesh, not hard enough to break skin; he could feel the blood flushing to the surface, turning Thorin’s skin warm. His cousin had thrown his head backwards, exposing the long column of his neck, and Dwalin took a moment to _look_. Yes, that was indeed a gorgeous picture.

He was surprised when Thorin met his eyes with an expression that was half-confusion and half-arousal – surprised until he realised that his mouth was only just brushing Thorin’s skin. He nuzzled the bruising skin apologetically, a chuckle on his lips, and then put his mouth over it and _sucked_.

Funny how they’d hardly done anything – not to mention that no one had touched him yet – and Dwalin was painfully hard. But maybe that had more to do with the way Thorin was squirming on the bed, trying to push closer to Dwalin, and the way Bilbo licked his lips and stared intently. It was powerful to know that he’d rendered them so completely wordless.

Only, perhaps not quite so wordless, but the day Bilbo stayed quiet was the day Dwalin would start looking for the shape shifters.

As Dwalin was still putting the finishing touches on the bruise now decorating the soft skin of Thorin’s inner thigh, he heard Bilbo say, to Thorin, “You know, Dwalin really likes getting his mouth fucked.”

He had a moment of alarm. A moment. Then the leg Thorin had draped over Dwalin’s shoulder and back tightened. Thorin’s hands, instead of being by his head, had moved. One was at the back of Dwalin’s neck and the other spanning the side of his face. There was no doubt where he was being led to – and, honestly, Dwalin should have made more of a protest; he hadn’t told Thorin that it was okay to move his hands yet, but, well. He really _did_ like getting his mouth fucked.

Loved it, actually.

That was why he agreeably sealed his lips over Thorin’s dick, licking lazily before swallowing. Thorin’s heel was pressed almost painfully to the middle of Dwalin’s back, but that hardly mattered when he had that _heat_ in his mouth, silky, slippery skin over a hard length, so very different from Bilbo’s also-familiar cock, but gorgeous for that –

Bilbo was heaping praises on both his lovers – t’wasn’t very audible amongst the whimpers and whines also falling from his lips, but as peppered as it was with ‘darlings’ and ‘so good’, Dwalin got the general gist.

Thorin’s left foot was flat against the mattress; between that and the leg he had slung over Dwalin’s shoulder, he had excellent leverage to keep driving his cock into Dwalin’s willing mouth at a steady pace. It wasn’t an angle that enabled Dwalin to swallow him down to the root – despite his best efforts – but all he had to do was firm his tongue against the veins on the underside and Thorin would break off into strangled cursing.

Deciding to take things into his own hands, Dwalin slipped them under Thorin’s arse, lifting his cousin slightly off the bed and further into his mouth. He then completely ignored the grumbles this earned him – as he’d wrecked Thorin’s leverage – and started bobbing his head, as quickly as he could.

It would be hell on his neck and shoulders come morning (or whenever they woke), but it was a price worth paying, especially seeing as in return he had a thick, slick cock nudging his throat. All he could taste was _Thorin_ , all he could smell was sweat and musk, all he could feel was the foreskin slipping and sliding against his lips, all he could see was Thorin with his mouth open and his hands again fisting in the sheets –

Dwalin pulled back.

Apparently he’d been doing well enough with driving Thorin to incoherency, because it took a moment for Thorin to actually realise that Dwalin had stopped. And then two more moments for him to be able to string enough words together to make an understandable sentence.

“Get the fuck back here.” Thorin punctuated this by kicking Dwalin with the heel of his foot; damned rude, when all was said and done.

All Dwalin chose to do was shrug Thorin’s leg off him; he put his hands between Thorin’s thighs and parted them, leaving him open and exposed.

As if reading his mind – though more likely because he’d planned this all beforehand – Bilbo tossed down a tube of lube. When Dwalin glanced up with raised eyebrows, the cheeky sod winked. _Winked_!

Not one to complain about circumstances conveniently clicking into place, Dwalin bent down and breathed over the hickey he’d left on Thorin’s thigh. It almost looked obscene on Thorin’s otherwise pale skin. Like someone had drawn on a marble statue - well, if marble statues were hairy that was. His cousin twitched under him, and twitched again when slick fingers circled his entrance.

Dwalin took his time. Of course Dwalin took his time. Thorin really did work too hard; he needed all the R-and-R he could get, and Dwalin and Bilbo were more than happy to supply it to him. Even if that meant leaving him a satiated pile of hot arse.

Right now, that hot arse was being… well, an arse. He kept arching his spine, trying to rock down onto Dwalin’s thick fingers and swearing every time those fingers stilled within him. “Fuck me,” Thorin said bossily, frowning mightily when this was met with a snort. “Dwalin, _fuck_ me.”

“All in good time.” The grin on his face was probably best described as shit-eating, and Dwalin delighted in stealing the angry retort from Thorin’s throat by the judicious addition of a third finger, wiggling them slightly just for the full body shiver that earned him.

“Dwalin.” This was Bilbo, and Dwalin looked up. Couldn’t help the grin from growing when he saw just how wrecked the TV-chef appeared; his curls – all his curls – were sweat damp, and he was flushed from head to toe. Particularly at his cock, which was prettily pink. Under Dwalin’s watchful gaze, he dragged his hands over it, as slowly as Thorin was being prepared. Excruciatingly slow. “Don’t tease.”

He turned back to Thorin, whose brow was impressively furrowed. “You’re lucky.”

Thorin didn’t get to ask for the details of this luck, because he suddenly found himself manhandled onto knees and elbows. Dwalin took a moment to admire the curve of his arse and the strong line of his thighs. He was very lucky indeed to be blessed with that sight, and now Thorin had thankfully forgotten that he’d gotten it into his head to be modest. He pushed his arse backwards, arching his back completely without any sense of modesty and Dwalin only realised that his grin was getting a bit big when he saw Bilbo’s eyebrows raise in question. He could only shrug in response. Not the time for explanations, instead time to drive Thorin well and truly out of his mind.

By the time he finally slipped into Thorin – snug like a hand in a glove – his cousin was squirming and desperate. Dwalin could tell that he was close. Hell, Thorin had been close when Dwalin had been sucking him; that was why he’d let off in the first place. Now, with his hips brushing Thorin’s arse, Dwalin reached around and clamped his hand around the base of Thorin’s cock.

Bilbo hissed in sympathy.

Dwalin slid all the way out, just to be a dickhead. Thorin almost whimpered, at the last minute turning it into a snarl, demanding that Dwalin fuck him or fuck off.

“Put your hands on the headboard, and then we’ll talk.”

Thorin was _definitely_ close, because he obeyed without complaint. His grip was white-knuckled, and tightened further when Dwalin rocked into his tight heat. He’d dropped his chin to his chest, wet hair covering his face as he gasped in deep breaths. Pity.

Struck with inspiration, Dwalin shuffled forwards. It took a moment of confusion – _what the fuck are you trying to do_ – before Thorin caught on, and moved up along the bed as well. There was nowhere for Thorin to hide now; they were both kneeling, and Dwalin had an arm across Thorin’s chest so they were both practically upright, giving Bilbo an excellent view of proceedings.

It was also a knee-weakening angle. Fuck. Dwalin was surprised steam hadn’t started to rise from Thorin’s still damp hair.

Thorin was muttering; voice just a low rumble in the chest beneath Dwalin’s hand, but it sounded a lot like curses and threats. Demands for Dwalin to actually fuck him and not just tease. Dwalin grinned as he slid his cock another inch inside Thorin. Then back out again until just the head remained inside Thorin’s tight heat. Then slowly, slowly, Dwalin gave into the temptation to bury himself fully. When he pulled away again Thorin growled and bucked his hips backwards.

"Don't you want to show Bilbo how good you are?” Dwalin asked huskily, moving his hand from where it was curled around the base of Thorin’s cock to give the length a slow stroke as he rolled his hips forward again. “Give him a show?"

He smiled when Thorin reached back with one hand to squeeze the back of Dwalin's neck, letting his head drop backwards with a small sigh to rest on a strong shoulder. Pressing a kiss to the side of Thorin’s neck, and another, Dwalin enjoyed how the action made Thorin’s eyes slit until he resembled a contented cat. Then he cursed as Thorin clenched around him. Okay, so a sneaky fucking contented cat then.

Lifting the hand he had wrapped around Thorin’s chest Dwalin angled the other man’s head back for a kiss that was more teeth and tongue than lips. As he pulled back Thorin’s lips were still curved in a small smirk, which fell away as Dwalin rapidly, and _hard_ , shoved his hips back and forth couple of times. 

"Behave," Dwalin growled and lifted Thorin’s hand back to curl around the headboard.

"I like this show," Bilbo sighed as he lazily rubbed at his sweet, flushed prick.   
  
Dwalin’s mouth watered as he saw it. A small amount of liquid had collected at the head and Bilbo spread it around with his thumb. What a damned waste. If he wasn’t so far away (really, the bed was stupidly huge) Dwalin could have -

Dwalin was distracted enough by the view that he was startled when Thorin started speaking.

"Please," his cousin’s voice was even lower and raspier than normal, like he’d been the one with a cock mostly down his throat. "Dwalin, _please_ fuck me harder. I need you. Need your cock." 

Dwalin actually fucking shivered. Thorin’s voice ought to be restricted for health and safety reasons, but as his cousin turned his head to look at Bilbo, Dwalin saw the small smirk that was back to curl at the corners of his mouth. 

"You little brat," Dwalin grunted, pulling Thorin back against his chest, hips stilling entirely, and the hand wrapped around Thorin’s cock tightening to the point just shy of discomfort. Actual discomfort that was, not just the inconvenience of not getting to come.

It didn’t take Thorin long to start begging again. Without the smirk, and in a voice even raspier and more breathy than before.

This was fortunate, because Dwalin’s self-control had really been about to pack its bags and leave on a long journey, perhaps never to return. He thrust forward, and Thorin just about sobbed in relief.

He could understand that feeling.

“I know you planned this, I fucking – you two are so – do that again, or else I’ll, I’ll never give you a discount on rooms ever agai – ah! Oh, yes, there, there, right there!”

Thorin's pleas were only half-understandable now - every time Dwalin rocked forward Thorin's words turned garbled, and it only got worse when Dwalin bit down on Thorin's shoulder, still not breaking skin but worrying it with his teeth until he could feel the heat of it rise beneath his lips. Thorin now properly whimpered as Dwalin pulled his head back.

Bilbo's skin was flushed all over, and he was panting in time with the hands pumping his cock. "I'm - I'm not going to last long, I - you're so, you're both so -"

"You first then," Dwalin grunted. "Then Thorin gets to come."

The moan from Thorin made Bilbo's toes curl.   
  
"Bilbo - _please_ -"  
  
“Oh, my darlings,” Bilbo groaned. “Thorin - could you, keep talking?”  
  
“You heard him,” Dwalin prompted, slowing his thrusts again even though it by now was as much of a punishment for himself as it doubtless was for Thorin.  
  
“I- what should I say?”  
  
“Tell me, tell me how Dwalin feels inside of you.”  
  
“Big.” Dwalin could almost see Thorin’s brain madly scrambling to collect the last of his mental capacity. “I feel full. I’m-” Thorin broke off and his head fell back to rest against Dwalin’s.  “I’m so close. And his damned _hand_ -”  
  
Dwalin snickered despite himself, but Thorin sounded so adorably disgruntled. Luckily Thorin didn’t really notice; this was not the bloody time for an argument.  
  
“I want him to, ah, fuck me like he _means_ it.”  
  
“I’m going to - you can,” Bilbo swallowed. His hand was stroking fast and hard and then he was coming in wet spurts all over his belly and chest.  
  
Dwalin took that as his cue and he gripped Thorin’s hips with both hands and let himself fall into the smooth, fast motion they both wanted. Breathy little whines were still coming from Bilbo and that together with the slick sounds of Dwalin’s cock sliding in and out of Thorin, and the desperate keens as Thorin was pushed ever closer to the edge… if Dwalin could have that as his ringtone without breaking any damned decency laws he would have.  
  
“Touch yourself,” Dwalin ordered, moaning when Thorin did since the first stroke made his arse clench. Thorin came shortly after that, voice rising into a roar and Dwalin was not far behind, pulling back with a groan and letting his come land filthily over the backs of Thorin’s thighs and arse. Now he was well and truly marked.

And would probably need another shower.  
  
“I really hope no one was listening to that,” Bilbo said as he squirmed across the bed to slump next to Thorin.  
  
The dark haired man muttered something unintelligible, and Dwalin pressed a kiss to his shoulder and then raised himself on a slightly shaking arm to lean over and kiss Bilbo.  
  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said with a languid smile. “That was _lovely_.”  
  
Again Thorin muttered something that they couldn’t quite make out, but Bilbo just chuckled and leaned down to press kisses to his forehead, cheeks, and then mouth. Dwalin watched as Thorin groaned and raised a hand to curl around Bilbo’s neck, deepening the kiss.  
  
“You _are_ trying to kill me,” Thorin rasped, turning back to glare at Dwalin who innocently caressed Thorin’s nipple again.  
  
“Nah,” Dwalin said and trailed his hand down Thorin’s side. “We prefer keeping you around.” For longer than a weekend, but that was perhaps a subject best left for another time. Serious discussions had no place during holidays.  
  
“We do,” Bilbo nodded and stole another kiss. When they broke it Dwalin tipped Thorin’s head back so he could have his turn. He sucked gently on Thorin’s bottom lip which was red and bruised from being bitten, sliding his tongue inside Thorin’s mouth when he opened it with a soft sigh.  
  
“My clothes -” Thorin said, pulling back, and Dwalin looked towards the clock standing on the desk.  
  
“Will be returned earliest in 16 hours. Live with it. Or you know, without them.”  
  
“We could try the hot tub?” Bilbo suggested hopefully – as if this one would be any different than their last hotel visit. (The one where Bilbo had apparently saved the world.)  
  
Thorin stretched and groaned when he pulled at stiff muscles. “Fine, but fish me up when I slip beneath the surface.”  
  
“We will,” Dwalin promised. “As I said, we want to keep you around.”  
  
The look that earned him from Thorin was slightly too serious to just be about drowning in a hot tub. Err, well - too serious to be joking about it, and Dwalin hardly believed Thorin had been serious. They’d not really defined what the three of them had together; perhaps it’d be time for that soon. Maybe -  
  
“I’m hungry,” Bilbo said with a hopeful look at Thorin. “And we couldn’t find the minibar earlier. Why does this room have a safe and not a minibar?”  
  
Thorin snorted. “You’re just not very good at looking.”  
  
“So you’ve got a hidden minibar, but the safe’s still in plain view?” Bilbo asked. “That still seems a bit backwards.”  
  
“May I get you something to eat, oh demanding one?” Thorin said with a longsuffering expression that was rather ruined by the teasing light in his eyes.  
  
“You may,” Bilbo beamed.

“If you tell me where it is I can get us something, and you two can get the tub going,” Dwalin offered and Thorin snorted.  
  
“Yes you fucking can after being such a teasing bastard.”  
  
“It’s not teasing if I follow through,” Dwalin argued.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll remember that,” Thorin said, eyes half-lidded and the shiver Dwalin got from that was just foreboding. Yeah. Nothing to be excited about.  
  
“Right,” Bilbo said, pushing himself up and moving across the bed until he could get off it. Dwalin licked his lips when the pale white streaks on Bilbo’s stomach reminded him that his lover had indeed gotten off _on_ it. “You know where to find me when you’ve found the snacks.”  
  
They both watched as Bilbo trotted naked across the bedroom and into the bathroom, round arse jiggling enticingly.  
  
“Are there rules against fucking in the hot tub?” Dwalin asked his cousin and Thorin shook his head disbelievingly.  
  
“If you can get it up that soon, go right ahead.”  
  
“Who said anything about soon?” Dwalin shrugged one shoulder. “Once Bilbo’s in that damned tub he’s not coming out until he’s a prune. We might as well take advantage.” Curling his hand in Thorin’s hair Dwalin pulled him in for another kiss, this one chaste and sweet. “Right, show me this secret minibar then. And please tell me you’ve got some beer that’s not fucking weird.”  
  
“Your sense of taste is just disgraceful,” Thorin scoffed.  
  
“Beg to differ,” Dwalin said and dragged his eyes up and down Thorin’s body.  
  
“If there’s chocolate, definitely bring it!” Bilbo called from the bathroom.  
  
“Are we allowed to eat in the tub?” Dwalin asked as he got up. (It was best not let Bilbo wait too long or he might decide that he was hungry enough to require something cooked.) The rule was no eating before swimming, and while they wouldn’t be swimming, there would be strenuous activity while in water…  
  
“Hell if I know,” Thorin said. “I didn’t read the manual. But if it breaks than I’ll put in a good word with the hotel management.”  
  
Dwalin chuckled. “Very kind of you.” He glanced around the room. “So, food?”  
  
“The wooden panel over there.” Thorin nodded towards the far wall. “Press the button. The silvery one at chest height.”  
  
Dwalin walked over and did as asked, and with a small whooshing sound part of the panel was raised to reveal a good sized fridge.  
  
“Apparently fridges are not appealing?” Thorin shrugged.  
  
“But safes are?” Dwalin shook his head. “Whatever, what d’ya want?”  
  
“Bring the duck pâté.” Thorin got to his feet and stretched.  
  
“Duck pâté?" Dwalin stared at the other man. In a fucking minibar?  
  
“Not in the mood for caviar,” Thorin said, straight-faced as he headed for the bathroom.  
  
“Not what I meant and you know it, you spoiled brat!” Dwalin called after him as he disappeared. Fucking hell. He opened the fridge door and goggled at the amount of things stuffed in there. And all the beer had labels that were in languages he didn’t understand.  With a sigh Dwalin took one at random and twisted the cap off to sniff at it – except another bottle caught his interest.  
  
“Why is there alcohol with gold flakes in it?” Dwalin asked the empty room. The room did not answer. So with a sigh Dwalin began digging around for something to feed his lovers with. Better keep their strength up if they were going to try and wreck Thorin’s hot tub.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy DoS, by the way! Both alkjira and I have watched it, and squeed appropriately.


End file.
